


our loving where we left it

by supinetothestars



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supinetothestars/pseuds/supinetothestars
Summary: It started that summer, in a summer evening spent sprawled across Adora’s front porch. It started in the lazy breeze that was thick as sun-warmed honey and the gentle rustling of trees arching over the neighborhood roofs. It started with a song - the first few bars, at least, rusty and faint from an old guitar, as Adora gently strummed along to the lyrics. It started with Catra on her back, head resting on the hard wood of the porch, eyes trained gently on the motion of Adora’s hand against the guitar - steady, plucking her way through notes one at a time as Catra reached up, gently tapping at the guitar above her head, guiding every note. It’s gentle and slow and time stands still to wait for the song to finish, for the stanzas to run out.They stopped halfway through the song. Adora claimed it was because she was thirsty and Catra claimed it was because her head was swimming from looking up at Adora from below, but neither of them were telling the truth.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Kudos: 25





	our loving where we left it

Autumn has arrived on Etheria, and Catra is uneasy.

She can feel the uncertainty within her, humming a familiar song below her skin: fleeting and always just-out-of-reach, the unpleasant purring of anxiety darting about her insides and setting them out of kilter. Everything seems unpleasantly unbalanced, like her emotions are a teeter-totter inside of her ready to crumble at the slightest push.

She gets dressed once. Twice. Three times, then back to the first outfit: her sweatshirts and leggings tossed aside for well-worn jeans and a red jacket. Her hair falls in front of her face, and she tucks it aside, leaning to see her reflection in her fogged-up bedroom mirror past the cracks where she had scratched out gashes of glass the previous winter in a fit of Adora-induced rage. It falls back into her eyes at once, thick brown curls shrouding her ruddy cheeks. 

Freckles dust her face, fresh from the sunlit summer, and a wave of something indescribable overcomes her at the reminder of how she’d spent those months. It feels unreal, now, half like a haze: a distant memory of parks and playgrounds, backyard fences climbed and porches sprawled across in the lazy afternoon heat: Adora, by her side, like a specter of everything Catra had thought she’d lost. Laughing and teasing not just with her words but with her presence, like a wonderful mockery, that she dared to reenter Catra’s life after those years Catra had thought her gone forever.

That’s over, now, and Autumn has come. The weather is growing rapidly cold again, a snappish bite to the wind, and Catra’s alarm woke her from her mess of a bed today with a horrible screeching reminder of what was to come. School is beginning, but it’s different, this time: she cannot return to tracing the path of those months spent lurking within the Bright Moon Academy walls like a half-spectre, hardly there.

Adora tucks her hair behind her ears again. It pops out of place, and this time, she leaves it be.

  
  
  


It started that summer, in a summer evening spent sprawled across Adora’s front porch. It started in the lazy breeze that was thick as sun-warmed honey and the gentle rustling of trees arching over the neighborhood roofs. It started with a song - the first few bars, at least, rusty and faint from an old guitar, as Adora gently strummed along to the lyrics. It started with Catra on her back, head resting on the hard wood of the porch, eyes trained gently on the motion of Adora’s hand against the guitar - steady, plucking her way through notes one at a time as Catra reached up, gently tapping at the guitar above her head, guiding every note. It’s gentle and slow and time stands still to wait for the song to finish, for the stanzas to run out. 

They stopped halfway through the song. Adora claimed it was because she was thirsty and Catra claimed it was because her head was swimming from looking up at Adora from below, but neither of them were telling the truth. There was lemonade on the table just inside, which Glimmer and Bow had made that morning, and Adora carried it out and poured two glasses even though, she said, Bow had spilled too much sugar and it was caked inside the pitcher. It mixed with the lemon-water so thick it caught on Catra’s throat when she took a sip. She was sitting up then, just a little - leaning back on one arm - and from there she watched Adora place the pitcher on the table and scooted over to swing her legs over the edge of the porch.

Adora’s house was far from the inner city, placed in a patchy circle of houses that ringed the older areas of the town. That area was old buildings, and it was crowded forest-thick with trees around the margins, even along the cracked pavement roads of the house rings. There, sprawled across the porch, Catra could see the thick arch of trees that bends over the neighboring houses, the branches bent like weary travellers. Red leaves dust across the mossy gravel driveway, and a deep red sunset had begun to creep across the western sky. It spilled through the trees and ringed about the houses, edged by bright blue skies. 

All Catra could focus on was the way Adora’s eyes looked, watching that horizon. The red glare became golden under her eyelashes, and scarlet turned her cheeks a pleasant umber, catching each freckle and casting it in shadow. Her hair was down, a yellow-glowing halo; Catra found herself unable to look away.

Adora glanced around and noticed her looking. Catra was closer, now, and she slid nearer still at Adora’s beckoning. Dangled her legs over the porch, her arm brushing the sleeve of Adora’s jacket. The sunset was visible clearer through the trees, from this position, and Catra pretended that spectacle was what she was watching.

“I missed you,” Adora said, and it was so quiet Catra almost missed it. She glanced to the side and found Adora’s gaze trained on hers.

The movement brought their faces startlingly close. Catra’s heart was doing something odd, deep in her chest, but her attention was too focused on Adora to pay it any mind.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore,” She murmured. “I’m right here.” 

“Yeah,” Adora said. “You are.” 

And then they were kissing, slow and sweet while the mosquitos and the fireflies buzzed about their heads, and it was everything Catra dreamed of and nothing she expected. Head dizzy and fingers loosely entangled with Adora’s; the honey-gold sky opened up and swallowed the both of them whole. 

**Author's Note:**

> credit to sammy copley on youtube for the title go check him out he's neat 
> 
> anyway idk what this is it's unedited and a compilation of stuff i wrote last week and stuff i wrote four months ago,, however i am but a sad yearning wlw who adopted these two as my comfort lesbians a while ago so it's abt time i published some of the things i've written for them


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